Consumed
by Livealovestory
Summary: Overnight Clary's entire world caved in.  Now she finds herself amongst strangers in a world she knows nothing about.
1. Chapter 1

Hello, all! This is the second story that I've started. I'm having trouble finding inspiration for other one (City of Embers), so I needed some fresh material to sink my teeth into. I promise I'll keep both of them going. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I own nothing MI related…just havin' fun with her characters.

Clary found herself in a room full of strangers. Not one familiar face. With no friends or family around she was forced to turn to her cell phone for comfort. She clicked a button, opening her Inbox. She smiled, clicking on her last message received, from Simon: **Buck up! It's no big deal. Can't wait to hear all about it!** But leaving the comfort of her life in order to end up here – and not by choice - _was_ a big deal. She scanned to the one before it, from Simon: **Don't worry…I won't say anything to anyone! I can't believe my best friend is a ninja!** That made her giggle to herself. She tried to remember how many times she had told Simon that she wasn't a ninja, she was a Shadowhunter. But he refused to call her anything but a ninja. Her smile was short lived as she glanced around the room again.

Clary had only been here for fifteen minutes and things were already strange. It started with one of the other students chanting something at the door right before it opened on its own. And then there was the cat – Church, the one that lead them to the library. Even though it couldn't speak, the other students knew they were supposed to follow it. _Did they get some type of manual that I didn't?_ Now she and about eight other semi-trained Shadowhunters were scattered randomly throughout the room. Including the three girls huddled in the corner, whispering amongst each other. They reminded Clary of the mean girls back from her old high school. She only said that because the main one – a beautiful Asian girl with a fiercely slanted haircut – gave Clary an intimidating look when they first arrived. Clary knew from experience that it was best to ignore them.

Clary shut her phone when an elderly man appeared in the wide doorway of the room. She stifled a gasp when she noticed the horrible scar pulling down the side of his cheek. A battle wound, she guessed. He was dressed in a dark-grey, tweed suit, covered by a black cloak that was open at the front. He smiled kindly as he entered the room, taking his place behind a long wooden desk. Scattered across it were piles of books with titles Clary could barely make out from her spot in the room. _The Night Hunter: A Nephillim's guide to Dark Demons_ was one of them. Behind him rows upon rows of literature littered the shelves, a sliding ladder attached to the wall for the hard to reach ones. Clary had already made a mental list of at least five books that she would like to check out from their collection.

"Welcome, everyone. My name is Hodge Starkweather. And this here," he gestured toward his shoulder, "is Hugo." To her surprise a dark bird appeared on Hodge's shoulder. She could have sworn it wasn't there a minute ago. With a loud _caw_ the bird flapped its wings and took off through the open window. "Don't mind him, he's moody." A few people chuckled at that. "You all know the reason you are here. Your grandparents went through training, your parents went through training, and now it is your turn. I've even trained some of your parents. But that's all in the past. I am a Professor of History now, and that is exactly what I will be to you: your History Professor. My time with you will be spent furthering your studies on the different elements of hunting. We will be studying complex demons, fairy lore, the history of vampires and licans, and of course, rune magic." Hodge inclined his head toward a young man that was leaning against the wall across the room. "It's a pleasure to have you back," Hodge said. The dark haired boy closed his eyes and bowed his head ever so slightly – a gesture of respect.

When the handful of students were first led to the library, Clary immediately sought out the comfort of a puffy, Victorian style chair, and the sense of security the dark, shadowed corner seemed to offer her. She'd never been so nervous before in her life, and she wanted to stay as hidden as possible, for as long as possible. She looked around at the other kids; some leaning up against the walls, others standing with their arms crossed, eager and fearless expressions plastered on their faces. Expressions that stated loud and clear: _I've grown up in this world and I know exactly what to expect here_. Not like Clary.

Clary watched as Hodge's eyes drifted from person to person, looking, searching for something, and then landed directly on her. He squinted in her direction for a mere moment before offering a genuine and knowing smile. He looked like he'd just received a long awaited gift. She felt her cheeks flush at the sudden and unwanted attention. "You must be Clarissa, Jocelyn Fairchild's daughter." It wasn't a question. Clary saw the dark haired boy look in her direction. "You look just like her." Everyone in the room suddenly turned to look at her with wide eyes. This is exactly what she'd been trying to avoid; the hushed whispers, the judgmental gazes. Her reputation had preceded her. Clary fidgeted with her hands and nodded. "She is a great warrior, your mother. As I'm sure you know, one of the best of our time. I'm told you will be as well." He seemed very pleased by this. "I've been awaiting your arrival for quite some time." She swallowed hard, fighting the lump in her throat.

"Thank you," she said quietly.

Noticing her unease and kindly taking pity on her, he addressed the class as a whole. Clary couldn't ignore the lingering stares that seemed to be coming from every angle, but she pretended to. "Let's continue. I will also oversee your time here at the Institute. To make sure that you have everything you need in order to excel in your training courses. You will have multiple instructors thorough out this process, as well as mentors. Alec here," again, gesturing to the dark haired boy, "is one of your instructors." Alec nodded toward the class. "He is only a year or two older than most of you, but he has been an active Shadowhunter since the age of twelve. As are his sister, Isabelle, and brother, Jace. They will also be offering their skills and knowledge from time to time. But know this," he paused, meeting the eyes of a few students. "Although your ages don't differ much from theirs, do not think that their words hold any less weight than my own. They are your instructors. You will listen to them. They know what is best for you and how to keep you safe during your time-"

Hodge was cut short when the library door flew open with a loud _bang_. A girl walked in. _A drop dead gorgeous-girl_, Clary thought. All the boys noticed and straightened up in their respective spots, hoping to gain the attention of the dark-haired beauty.

"Oh!" The girl exclaimed, looking around the room. "Sorry, Hodge, my bad. I didn't know that they were arriving so early. We just need to grab a book." She gestured with her head to a boy standing in the doorway. Clary couldn't quite see his face, but from where she was sitting she could make out blonde hair.

"No, that's quite alright, Isabelle. Please come in. I'd like to introduce you to our guests. And you as well, Jace." Jace strode into the room and immediately caught the attention of the other girls. The Asian girl perked up off of the wall, erasing her attitude and faking a sexy smile. Clary rolled her eyes at the scene. She could see Jace, but not that well. All she saw was dark Shadowhunter gear and blonde hair.

"Students, this is Isabelle and Jace Lightwood. Brother and sister to Alec. Jace and Alec are also Parabatai."

"Hello." Isabelle waved. "I'm Isabelle. Call me Isabelle, not Ms. Lightwood." Clary was sure she could hear the collective _thump_ that came along with the boys' jaws dropping around the room. None of them said anything; they just blatantly stared at her. It probably didn't help that she was dressed head-to-toe in tight, black fighting-gear. Jace was leaning up against Hodge's desk. He seemed bored.

"I think you've got these gentlemen spellbound, Iz." Jace said, sounding semi-amused at the obvious displays of manhood around the room. Clary giggled as the boys cleared their throats, repositioning themselves out of embarrassment. Isabelle seemed momentarily entertained by this, but not surprised. _She must have boys drooling over her on a daily basis_, Clary thought.

"Isabelle, Jace, and Alec will be spending the most time with you. We will also have lessons with out of town guests, as well as with Mayrse and Robert Lightwood. They are on errand in Idris at the moment and will be returning next week."

The mention of Idris made Clary think of her mom, who she missed more than anything. She left this morning after dropping Clary off and didn't know when she would be back. She was instructed to return to Idris in order to discuss her whereabouts for the past sixteen years. Apparently in a haste to get away from Valentine - Clary's father, her mother fled Idris when Clary was just a baby, seeking refuge in crowded New York City. Up until two months ago Clary thought she was a normal high school teenager with a normal New York upbringing. She didn't consider herself unlucky that she didn't – up until two months ago – have a father. She loved that this reason brought her and her mom closer, because mom was also dad. And mom also had Luke. Luke was like a dad but more lenient. But now everything had changed and she was stuck here with these deadly strangers, while her mom was being persecuted in Idris – the Shadowhunter's home country.

"Isabelle, will you please see the young ladies to their rooms? And gentlemen, if you wouldn't mind waiting for Alec, he'll be with you shortly." Clary was getting ready to move when she heard Hodge call, "And Clarissa, can I speak with you for a moment? I'll show you to your room." Clary's stomach clenched with nerves, not knowing what to expect. She saw Jace shove himself away from the desk, searching the faces of the girls in the corner. Not finding what he was looking for he scanned the room and stopped at the corner where she sat. That was the first time Clary caught a glimpse of his eyes. They were liquid gold, and completely mesmerizing. Against his black armor they glowed like cat eyes. She continued to watch as they narrowed, trying to focus in on her. Just then the Asian girl stepped in front of him blocking Clary's view. Clary saw him try to look around the girl before he gave up and shook her hand.

"Clarissa?" Hodge was next to her, offering her his hand. He had a gentle, calming voice that made Clary feel a whole lot better. "I know this is all very new to you," he said quietly, "but trust me when I say that you are going to excel above and far beyond any of your peers. I won't blame you for taking comfort in that fact. It will be our little secret." He winked, earning a genuine smile from her. She took a deep breath and rose from her chair.

"Deal." She whispered, taking his hand and emerging from her retreat. The last of the students had walked out and shut the door behind them, leaving Hodge, Clary, Alec, and Jace – who was looking right at her, studying her. He didn't' take his eyes off of her as she crossed the room. Her skin instantly turned against her, flushing pink in embarrassment. The corner of Jace's mouth lifted into a grin.

"Jace, Alec, this is Clarissa Fairchild. Clarissa, this is Jace and Alec Lightwood. Sons of Mayrse and Robert Lightwood."

She felt much more comfortable without the other students around. "It's Clary. Clary Fray, actually." She could still feel Jace's eyes on her, but she didn't dare look at him. _He must me judging me like everyone else_, she thought. "My mom is apparently going by Jocelyn Fairchild…" Clary waved her hand signaling the end of that topic.

"My apologies." Hodge chuckled. "Clary Fray it is. So how are you feeling so far? This must be very overwhelming for you?"

She looked around the room, once again appreciating the books. "It's…" she struggled for an intellectual word to describe her feelings, "crazy."

"That it is." Hodge agreed. "I can see that you're a book lover. Feel free to take as many as you'd like. Is there anything I can get you besides books that will make you feel more comfortable?"

"My old life?" Clary laughed without humor.

"You mean you'd _go back_, if it were possible?" Jace asked as if it was the most ridiculous thing in the world. "You would prefer to be a mundane?" And there was that word again, _mundane_. Clary hated how they made it sound like being human was a disease.

Clary shot him an annoyed look. For a moment she wondered if it was okay to yell at an instructor, but she really didn't care either way. How did he know what she'd been through recently? He didn't. Two months of pent-up frustration was waiting to be unleashed. "Yes, I would actually. Forgive me if I'd like to go back to a time when I wasn't the daughter of an insane killer. Or a time when horrible creatures weren't trying to kill my mother and me." Clary had the scar on her shoulder to prove it. It was the night she found out about all of this. She had walked into her and her mom's apartment one night to find a filthy, slithering creature waiting for her. Its tail hooked her in the shoulder right before Luke busted through the door and killed it. It was also the same night she found out Luke was a werewolf. Through her haze-filled delirium, Clary watched him transform in mid-air right before she passed out from the pain. "And before you even ask, no, I don't know where he is, or what he's planning on doing. I'm not a killer." She crossed her arms and turned her face toward the window, fighting against the traitor tears that wanted to escape. "I shouldn't even be here."

"Where who is?" Jace asked.

She turned to look at them. They seemed confused. "Valentine."

"You aren't suggesting that we think you're conspiring with-"

"Don't you?" Clary cut Jace off. "Everyone else does. Isn't that why they're all staring at me?"

"No," Hodge said, turning Clary's chin to look at him. "Don't let yourself think that. They only find you fascinating. That's all. You are the daughter of two very infamous Shadowhunter's. Regardless of Valentines ways, he is still _the_ most talented Nephillim of our time. If you catch them staring it's only because they're curious to see the abilities you have hidden inside of you." Clary nodded, feeling the weight of the situation settle in one her shoulders. Something she hadn't felt before now. They all had expectations of her. "Now why don't we discuss this more in private? Come find me once you're settled in. There's something I would like to give you."

"Have you heard from my mom yet?"

"No, I'm afraid not. I'll send a fire message requesting she phone. I'll come find you when she does. Alec? Can I speak with you in the kitchen for a moment?" Clary had forgotten Alec was there. He'd been so quiet throughout the whole exchange. "Jace, please show Clary to her room." Clary released a sigh and watched as Alec turned and followed Hodge out of the library, leaving her alone with Jace. Clary couldn't remember the last time she was alone with a boy - Simon didn't count-, but the fact that she was suddenly so exhausted helped ease her jitters.

"You okay?" Jace asked. She noticed his voice had become a little gentler. She turned to look at him. He went back to leaning up against the desk, looking terribly at home in his black gear. He wore it like a second skin. His eyes searched her face and something curled in Clary's belly. Fear? Or something else…

She didn't answer.

He lifted the corner of his mouth into a grin. " Let's start over. I'll try not to piss you off too bad this time. Hi. I'm Jace."

Clary couldn't help but smile. He was disarming. Even after being an asshat. "Yeah," her voice came out sounding small. "I know. Hi…Clary Fray."

His smile grew bigger revealing a small, endearing chip in his tooth. "Yeah, I know." She looked down at the belt around his waist. Clary had only recently learned about seraph blades, but she still had no idea how to use one.

"That's Raziel," he pointed to a metal tube hanging from his belt. "And this one's Sammhael." He pointed to another.

"Seraph Blades, right? Can I hold one?" Clary thought back to the one and only time her mother had called hers to life. She'd named it _Gavreel_. _Only for dire emergencies, until you're safe at the Institute_, her mother had said. It had fascinated Clary, and she was eager to see it done again. Jace unlatched the weapon and handed it to her without a second thought.

"Go ahead," Jace said. "I know you want to."

It was heavier than she thought it would be. Unyielding. She put her hands around the metal grip and whispered, "Raziel." An electric-blue light shot out from both ends of the tube before each of them curved into a wicked point. The blue light wasn't made up of purely light. With a closer look Clary could make out tiny, glowing particles orbiting each other within the beams of light, creating a slowly churning, whirlwind effect. They were barely noticeable to the human eye. She stared at it in amazement. "How can something like this be real?" She whispered to herself. Jace had been so quiet she'd almost forgotten he was there. She looked at him. "What would happen if I touched it?"

"You don't want to find out. Let's leave it at that." He glanced at the clock on the wall. "I should probably get you to your room. Hodge still wants to speak with you tonight."

Clary took one last look and then handed the blade to Jace. "Follow me, please." She didn't know why he'd become so formal all of the sudden. And so…cold

…..b.r.e.a.k….

If there were any one thing they could have given Clary that would have made her _almost_ happy, it would be this: her very own bedroom. Complete with a tall oversized bed. After her shower she wrapped herself in a white terrycloth robe and cuddled up underneath the comforter. It was one of those plush ones with the feathers you can just sink into. She put her headphones in and closed her eyes. This was as close to home as she was going to be for a while.

Clary felt like she'd slept for only minutes when she was suddenly – and not so gently – being shaken awake. She rubbed her heavily lidded eyes while her body tried to ignore the insistent pestering. She heard muffled noises that cleared up when someone pulled out her headphones. "Jeez!" Clary sat up at glared at the culprit. Isabelle. She just smiled at Clary like a little kid who downed one too many energy drinks.

"Hey there, sleepyhead. I'm Isabelle. It's nice to finally meet you."

Clary groaned. "How can you be so happy right now?"

"Because I didn't just wake up from a coma. Plus I just worked out, which brings me to the reason I'm waking you up. I'm going to do a private lesson with you tonight." She glanced at the clock. "In twenty minutes actually."

Clary didn't know why but she felt a little excited at the thought of having a private fighting lesson. She'd read her fair share of comic books. She could relate to female superheroes now. Having at least one thing to relate to made her even more excited. She threw back the covers, climbing out of the tall bed. Isabelle seemed to find something funny.

"You're a little thing, aren't you? Almost like a Pixie."

"I told you," Clary heard a familiar voice call from the doorway. Jace. She turned to find him leaning against the doorframe. "She's a little one."

If there was one thing Clary hated more than being called a ginger it was being called little. She stomped her foot like a child. "I'm not little! I'm-I'm…petite!" She was suddenly aware that she was yelling at her instructors in an oversized white robe, damp hair and everything. The last thing she could be right now is intimidating. Jace and Isabelle exchanged an amused look, but otherwise seemed to ignore her outburst.

"Here," Isabelle said, holding out a folded stack of clothes. "This is what you'll train in." Clary grabbed the clothes and went to the bathroom to change.

The clothes Isabelle gave Clary weren't that bad. Along with a black sports bra, her outfit consisted of a black, razor-back tank top, and grey, stretchy leggings that stopped mid-shin. The only thing Clary didn't know how to put on was this chest protector armor type thing.

She opened the door and held it by her fingers tips as if it were covered in poison. "How do I wear this?" Clary didn't even look at Jace; she already knew he'd be laughing at her. It was like watching a kitten try to be a tiger. Isabelle giggled.

"Like this." Isabelle helped her into the chest protector. It felt comfortably snug around her torso. Clary threw her hair up into a messy ponytail.

"That's a _wicked_ scar." Isabelle examined Clary's shoulder closely. She didn't like to talk about what happened that night. It still gave her nightmares. Jace had come in the door, too, eyes trained on Clary's shoulder. Clary flinched at the memory, instinctively closing her fingers over her shoulder to cover it. Isabelle straightened, seeming interested to hear more about it. "Ravener Demon? I'm guessing you were pretty sick after that? I'm surprised you survived." Clary thought back to the day she woke up in Luke's apartment at the back of the bookstore. She felt like she'd had food poisoning, ten migraines, and a handful of broken bones all at once. "Usually a person your size will last only minutes after a sting bad enough to leave that kind of mark. Who healed you?" Clary hesitated.

"Enough, Iz." Jace muttered. "At least let the girl eat before you start drilling her." Clary offered a small smile as a thank you. "I, for one, am starving." He assumed a macho air. "I am a man, and as a man I must consume massive amounts of calories."

"Yeah, yeah, I get it. I'm nosey. You ready, Clary?"

Clary looked in the mirror one last time and shrugged. And then she had an exhilarating thought. "Can I have a weapon?"

Isabelle laughed outright. "Not even close. Let's start with some basic training, shall we? Food first. We'll take you to the kitchen. I cooked lasagna." For some reason Isabelle smacked Jace in the arm when he made a gagging sound.

"When is the rest of the group eating?" Clary asked as they made their way down the third hallway. Large hallways, more like corridors, everywhere. This place was _huge_. "Shouldn't I be eating with them?"

Jace quirked an eyebrow. "Do you _want_ to eat with them?" Honestly she didn't want to. She'd rather be alone than be in a crowd feeling left out. "Didn't think so. You don't fit in with that group."

When Isabelle caught Clary's hurt expression she quickly added, "And that's a good thing. Look, don't worry about the others. You won't be training much with them anyway. We've got special things planned for you," she said wickedly.

They'd arrived to the kitchen. Clary jumped up onto a barstool and crossed her arms. "Explain."

"Relax." Jace said. "We're just going to cultivate you differently than we are them." He pulled out a box of cold pizza from the fridge.

_Cultivate me? _Clary was starting to feel like an experiment.

"Hodge seems to think you're going to be pretty badass. And if he's right we can skip a lot of steps. We'll see where you stand when we work together tonight."

"Why does he think that?" Clary asked. "How can he tell?"

The kitchen door swung open and Hodge walked in. "Because I can sense it in you. You're someone special, that much I'm sure of. You'll simply have to trust me on this one." He turned his attention to Jace. "Aline is requesting a private lesson with you already." Isabelle rolled her eyes.

"Here we go again…" Isabelle turned toward Clary but spoke loud enough for everyone to hear. "Every year there's always one," she said flatly. Clary wasn't sure what to make of that but Hodge didn't seem especially pleased by it.

"I found her waiting outside of your door." He eyed Jace from over his spectacles. "Be careful, Jace. She's your student."

Jace shrugged and tossed his crust into the trash. "What can I say? She wants to learn from the best." If that was an innuendo, Clary didn't even want to hear it. "The Pennhallow's are old friends of Maryse and Robert. It would be rude of me to ignore such a request." He grabbed his weapons belt from the counter and headed out of the kitchen. He glanced sideways at Clary. "See ya later."

"Speaking of private lessons," Isabelle rubbed her hands together greedily. "You ready, Ms. Clary?"

Clary eyed the lasagna and decided that she wouldn't mention that she still hadn't eaten. For some reason it just looked…wrong.

**AN:** And that was chapter one! Let me know what you think! I'm crossing my fingers…

Also, I have a picture on my profile of Clary's training outfit. Check it out if you'd like! My profile's pretty boring but I'm working on it.

Until next time…


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: ** Here's the next chapter in my story. Enjoy!

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing MI related. Just havin' some fun.

_Clary slowly regained consciousness as points of light stabbed through the disorienting haze that enveloped her. For a reason Clary couldn't understand, she was only able to open one eye, and just barely. Something hard and cold pressed against her cheek. She realized she was lying on the ground when she focused in on a pair of scuffed black boots. Her body was still recovering from whatever he had given her, so she didn't possess the motor skills to defend herself when the boot lifted and connected hard with her ribcage. _

_Clary screamed out in pain but the only sound that escaped was her breathless sobs. Her kidnapper had done something to her so that she couldn't speak. And he had taken her somewhere no one would hear her calls for help. She cradled her ribs and shielded her face._

"_Get up." His evil voice ordered. "I don't have time for this." She whimpered and curled in on herself when she felt him mark her neck with a rune. The burn in her throat receded but the rest of her remained damaged and broken. _

"_There. Now you can talk. But only when I ask you a question," he amended. Clary sucked in a breath to scream but was stopped short when his hand rocketed across her face, causing her to momentarily see red. All she wanted to do was cry out and soothe her face, but she couldn't. She was helpless. _

_He grabbed her chin and forced her to look at him. "I dare you to try it again." She shook her head, cowering away from the hateful look in his eyes. "Thought so." _

_He turned away from her and began polishing what looked like a knife. Clary felt a wave of nausea. "Please?" Her raspy voice trembled, tears flowing across her eyes and pooling on the dust covered ground. "Please," she begged. "Let me go? I don't have what you're looking for." She tried to move her hands but they were bound together at her wrists._

"_Oh but you do, don't you see? You _are_ what I'm looking for, Clarissa, nothing less nothing more. Your blood is that of the Angels, as mine is that of demons. What I need lies within you." He turned to face her and his eyes took on a predatory glint. "And then I'll be unstoppable. And when that happens, the first person I'm coming after is your precious Shadowhunter." He threw the towel to the side and examined his weapon. "Ready or not, Clarissa…" The last sounds she heard were the scuffle of his boots and her own ear-piercing scream. _

Clary bolted upright in bed, scrambling to press her back up against the large wooden headboard. She quickly looked from corner to corner, searching the room for any signs of the boy from her nightmare. His evil eyes haunted her, even now. To her utter relief the only thing out of place was a folded piece of paper that someone had slid underneath her door.

She relaxed back into the bed, allowing her aching muscles to distract her. Clary and Isabelle's one-hour training session turned into three when the girls lost track of time. Caught up in the details of Isabelle's battle stories, Clary couldn't help but find it all fascinating. And at some point during their time together, Clary realized that she was actually having fun. She'd been so careful to keep her new life at arms length, but she couldn't help but enjoy herself with her new mentor. Isabelle was carefree and dangerous; two things Clary was not. But learning to incapacitate a fully-grown man had certainly helped nudge her in that direction.

With a new sense of clarity, Clary climbed out of bed and retrieved the mysterious piece of paper.

Please meet me in the library at eight-thirty. We will have a history lesson. Hodge.

Clary showered quickly, wanting to catch a quick breakfast before her lesson with Hodge. She slipped on a pair of black- denim skinny-jeans and a slightly loose-fitting _Lawn Chair Crisis_ t-shirt - in support of Simon's most recent band name-, and made her way toward the kitchen.

After several wrong turns and many minutes later Clary finally found the corridor she had been searching for. She opened the kitchen's swinging door and nearly tripped over herself when she saw what she had walked in on. Jace was leaning lazily against the counter, while the Asian girl – who Clary had learned was the infamous Aline – faced him, her hands gripping the counter's edge on either side of his waist. She was whispering something in his ear while he listened with mild interest. Clary contemplated turning around but the grumble in her stomach convinced her otherwise. For a moment she watched the intimate scene while a small spark of jealousy burned in her stomach. Sometimes she wished she could be more like that - confident and sexy. But if confident and sexy also meant shallow and bitchy, as Aline so graciously demonstrated for Clary yesterday, she'd gladly pass.

Clary cleared her throat causing Aline to pounce away from Jace like he was on fire. When she caught sight of Clary her eyes narrowed like a serpent. Clary shrugged her shoulders apologetically, but didn't dare remove the headphones from her ears for fear of awkward conversation. And for a reason she didn't understand Clary couldn't look at Jace. Instead she busied herself with the fridge, rummaging through the fruit drawer. _Just_ famished enough to pretend to ignore the intimate scene that was taking place behind her, and hoping they would decide to take it elsewhere.

Her thoughts were answered when she heard the door swing shut a few moments later. She removed her headphones and slung them around her neck.

"Sorry about that."

Clary whirled around, startled by the unexpected voice. Jace was relaxing in a barstool, hands clasped loosely behind his head. Her rapidly beating heartbeat quickened as his golden eyes watched her with amused interest.

"You going to slice me?" He asked, taking in Clary's defensive, knife-wielding stance. "I wouldn't blame you. I've been told I taste good."

Fighting a smile she rolled her eyes at his narcissism. "I'm not sure teachers are supposed to speak like that in front of their students," she pointed out. "But then again, you don't strike me as the kind of person who follows many rules."

"That would be a smart assumption," he said, seeming satisfied.

Without meaning to, Clary's eyes began to wander over the faint white runes that tattooed his arms. They seemed to cast a faint metallic glow in the fluorescent lighting of the kitchen. She'd caught glimpses of her mothers but they were very faint and dull, nothing like what she was looking upon now.

Jace cleared his throat, outwardly delighted by her interest.

"Well sorry about that." She stammered, feeling her skin heat in embarrassment. "Never know when the next foul smelling demon is going to come looking for me."

"I assure you they already are. But I'll protect you."

Clary's stomach did a flip. Not because of the looming threat of more demon attacks, but something else entirely. No one had ever said anything like that to her before. Not a boy at least, and not with such confidence. She reminded herself that this was Jace - the same boy that just yesterday was making goo-goo eyes at the thought of training Aline.

"In between your make out sessions, right?"

He lifted an eyebrow. "Jealous?"

"Please. Jealous of a girl who voluntarily wears fake lashes and stalks around this place in heels? You're barking up the wrong tree."

He smiled at that. "Well that's too bad because most girls tend to find me rather charming."

"Most girls choose to forget they have a brain," she pointed out. Although she's not sure she could blame them when it came to Jace.

"But not you."

"I don't beg for attention, no."

This seemed to intrigue him. "Good," he said. "I like that about you. By the way, what's a _Lawn Chair Crisis_?"

She glanced down her shirt. "It's not a mental plight that takes place in a lawn chair, if that's what you're wondering. _Lawn Chair Crisis_ is the name of Simon's band."

Something flashed across his eyes, but was gone as quick as it had come. "Current name," she corrected. "It changes all the time."

Jace looked as if he was preparing for something unpleasant. He seemed uneasy. "Is Simon your boyfriend?"

A million questions suddenly raced through Clary's mind. _What if Jace finds out that I told Simon about all of this? What if he goes after him? What if he already knows and he's asking to see if I'll tell him the truth?_ She knew what these people were capable of and how much they wanted their world to go on unnoticed. "Why do you ask?"

"Just wondering if you were already promised to someone else?"

_Oh._ That's not at all what Clary had expected him to say.

She took a moment to study Jace and all his self-assured glory. It was difficult to ignore the tempting blend of vulnerability and flirtation his eyes held. And the way he seemed to be looking right through her, to the person she really was: a girl whose identity was stolen and has been struggling to get it back ever since. But as much as she'd like to believe he was sincere she couldn't. He was a boy that was a flirt, and she was an easy target.

"That's none of your business." Her words came out with more force than intended, but she didn't stop. "I don't ask questions about you and Aline. Who, by the way, probably wouldn't appreciate the way you're talking to me."

"There is no me and Aline. And you didn't answer my question."

Clary blinked, confused. "That's not what it looked like when I walked in here. And what question?"

"It wasn't what it looked like," he said every word carefully. "And…is Simon your boyfriend?" His eyes held hers like magnets.

"No. Simon isn't my boyfriend. I don't have a boyfriend." Jace smiled like he'd just won something. "And why are you so interested?"

He shrugged, his playful grin returning. "Just want to know if I have to watch my back. Heaven forbid you break some poor mundanes heart when you go falling in love with me." He grabbed an apple from the counter and took a big bite. Speaking over a mouthful of green fruit, he added, "It wouldn't be the first time." He swallowed. "I'm a lady-killer. And sometimes pixies." He considered something. "But never any vampires. I am NOT on the menu, and never will be." He pretended to shudder.

Clary narrowed her eyes at him, not sure _what on earth_ he was talking about, but fairly certain that he was making fun of her. "You're an asshat," she said, gathering her things. "And I have somewhere to be." She shoved her headphones in and pretended to ignore Jace, who sat back and watched her. Without another glance at him, Clary turned on her heels and headed toward the library.

…b.r.e.a.k…..

Curled up on one of the library's loveseats, Clary typed a quick message to Simon: **just wanted to say hi. you're a great friend. call you when I can. love u!** She turned back to the book: _High Warlock, Creating and casting, _and scanned the Index for anything having to do with memory loss. Out of all of the things Clary has been told and will learn, finding out that she's been robbed of a majority of her memories is what killed her the most. What had she missed? What had she not seen when it was standing right in front of her? How different would her life have been if she had grown up in this world? These were all questions Clary asked herself on a daily basis. And the one reason Clary couldn't fully forgiver her mother and Luke.

The door to the library opened revealing a morning fresh Hodge. "Good Morning, Clary. I trust you've found some interesting reading material?"

"It's going to take me a lifetime to run out of stuff to learn about in this library." That thought excited Clary. "And good morning."

Hodge gestured toward a large table and chairs. "Please. Have a seat."

Clary sat, eagerly awaiting the start of her lesson, while Hodge sifted through a drawer of scrolls. "Ah hah, here we are," he announced, returning with a long scroll with worn edges. "Let's begin, shall we?" He unrolled the heavy paper revealing a beautifully hand painted map. At the top center, painted in dark green ink, was the word: _**Idris**_.

"This is where your heritage lies - where _our_ heritage lies. This is where it all started." Clary's eyes devoured the map, taking in as much detail as possible. "It is located between the countries of Germany and France. Also popularly referred to as the City of Glass."

"City of Glass," she whispered, wide-eyes taking in places with names like: Lake Lyn, Alicante, and the Accords Hall. "But there's nothing between Germany and France? How is that possible?"

"In time you'll come to find that in this world, the possibilities are endless." For some reason he sounded a little saddened by this fact. "We hail from Alicante, the Capitol of Idris. It is home to the Glass Towers as well as some of the finest Shadowhunter's I know."

"Is that where my mother and Valentine are from?" She didn't look up. She wasn't sure how Hodge would react to her prying for information on her past.

"It is indeed." He spoke thoughtfully, as if lost in a memory. "Valentine and your mother had a home in Alicante. A large white mansion atop a knoll."

The thought made Clary feel sick. To think that her mother had lived a completely different life with a man that Clary had never met made her feel queasy. No wanting to discourage Hodge from continuing, she swallowed her pride. "Is it only Shadowhunters that live in Idris?"

"Correct. Downworlder's and demons are forbidden to enter Idris. They cannot in fact. The wards create invisible barriers around the country."

"What about other threats?" She asked, finally looking up at him. "The kinds that _aren't_ foreign?" Hodge knew exactly to whom she was referring. "What happens if he decides to go back? How would anyone know?"

"That is an excellent question, and one not so easily answered. Unfortunately they haven't had much luck with tracking spells, or anything of the sort. Valentine could very well be in Idris as we speak. He is cunning and brilliant, and that is a dangerous combination."

She couldn't imagine that this man was her father. She wondered if they had even one thing in common, however small it might be. "Can you tell me about him?"

"I was planning on telling you differently," he said. "But I don't blame you for seeking the truth. I would want nothing less if I found myself in such a precarious situation as you." He sat down across from Clary and clasped his hands in his lap. "Where to begin? " he pondered, looking at Clary.

"Recently peace negotiations took place between Nephilim and Downworlders. The end result is the Accords. In short, The Accords resemble a common peace between our kind and theirs; an understanding that will stay true as long both sides obey the laws of the Covenant. It wasn't always like this. For centuries we were at war not only with Downworlder's and those alike, we were at war amongst each other. Valentine is the father of that War."

"How? What did he do?"

"He formed The Circle. Your mother was one of its first members." Clary struggled with the thought, trying to find her mothers place amongst all of this. "Remember, this was a time when people looked up to Valentine. It was smart and strategic to be on his side. We truly believed we were fighting for a greater cause. We were banding for a common goal. "

"What was The Circle trying to accomplish?" She asked skeptically.

"We wanted to assume power from the Clave and banish the Accords. We didn't want peace with the Downworlders any longer; we wanted to be rid of them. We were greedy."

"When you say 'assume power'?' Clary was afraid that she knew exactly what Hodge meant by that.

"What I'm telling you is that we were planning on killing them in order to take a position of higher power. We knew that they wouldn't go down without a fight, but we were prepared to do what was needed."

"No." Clary shook her head vehemently. "My mother wouldn't do that. She wouldn't belong to something like this. She wouldn't kill out of greed!"

"You're mother belonged when Valentine was leading with a rational state of mind. She left when his views turned extreme, along with Lucian Graymark. He was the first to go. Those of us who remained loyal to him were abandoned, left at the mercy of the Clave. By that time Valentine had already faked his own death, leading us all to believe he burned in the manor fire, never to be heard from again. Until now."

"And you think he's the one sending the demons after me and my mother, don't you?" Clary was suddenly assaulted with the image of the demon lurching for her, black goop dripping from it's razor sharp teeth. "Will she be safe in Idris?"

"Rest assured." Hodge patted her hand. "She will be safer there than anywhere else."

"What do you think he wants with us?"

"That remains to be seen. We're limited in what we know. Hopefully your mother has some useful information for them." Hodges brow furrowed and he hesitated, thinking hard over something. "Clary…" His change in tone made Clary's heart skip. "There's something you should know?"

"Tell me." She said quickly. "Whatever it is I can handle it."

"Very well," he agreed. "From what I can tell your mother has not informed you of one very large detail." Clary stiffened in her chair. "The Clave has instructed me to tell y-"

"Just tell me, Hodge."

"Your mother and Valentine had another child, Clary, a son. His name was Jonathan Morgenstern. He was your brother. Were he still with us he would have been a couple of years older than you." Clary blinked, confused, because for some reason Hodge looked deadly serious.

"You're kidding," she half-laughed. But Hodge's expression held firm. "Right?"

"I'm afraid not." He said the words like an apology. "He died when he was a little boy."

Clary fell silent, examining Hodge's unwavering expression. "No," she said defiantly. "My mother would have told me that." She thought back on how much her mother had hidden from her – and entire world. But this was different. She couldn't have. Clary looked at Hodge; her eyes wet with unshed tears. "She would have told me that, right?"

He didn't answer.

"How did it happen?" She asked.

"Valentine's manor caught on fire while your brother was inside. It happened the night of the Uprising. The night your mother left. The same fire that was believed to have consumed Valentine."

Clary looked down at her hands, unable to bare the sympathy in Hodge's eyes without breaking down.

"Perhaps we should continue our lesson tomorrow? I think we've discussed enough for today. Please take the rest of the day for yourself. All I ask is that you do not leave the grounds." Clary nodded numbly. "Before I go I want you to have something."

Hodge retrieved a book from a nearby cabinet that required a key to open. "Perhaps this will serve as a distraction for you. This belongs to me. It is one of few that I have catalogued throughout my lifetime." Clary opened the cover to discover a drawing - a rune. It was a circle with a symbol in the middle. The moment her eyes connected with the picture she knew it resembled _awareness_. Almost innately she was able to see the drawing for what it was. She wasn't sure how she knew, but she just _knew_. "I've recorded every rune that I've encountered in my time as a Shadowhunter. You'll find them all in within this book."

"Thank you," Clary closed the book and turned away.

"I'm sorry, Clary," Hodge said before he walked out, closing the door behind him.

…..b.r.e.a.k…

Clary finished the final touches on her sketch and then sat back to study it. She stared down at the _remembrance_ rune - one of the hundreds she'd drawn from images in Hodge's book. Each one had been committed to memory. She couldn't explain the connection she felt with the runes, but it was powerful. Like something was simmering beneath the surface of her skin.

Clary turned to look out the window, unsurprised to see that it had turned dark out. The words _he was your brother _echoed in her head. She pushed the thought aside, unwilling to let it make her angry again.

"Clary?" A voice sounded, seconds before Isabelle's head popped through the door, complete with a curtain of long dark hair. "There you are. I've been looking everywhere for you." She bounded into the room, dressed to kill in a long sleeved, skintight dress, ankle accessories clinking together excitedly.

"Hey, Isabelle. You look great. What's the big occasion?"

She jumped up and down in excitement. "We're going out, that's the big occasion." Clary must have seemed confused. "We _never_ get to go out with any of the kids here, so this is huge."

"I'm not a kid," Clary reminded her.

"You know what I mean. It's usually just me, Alec and Jace." The mention of Jace's name made Clary's stomach flutter up into her ribs. "But Hodge told me that you might need some cheering up, so here I am. And I come bearing gifts."

Isabelle held up a wrinkled, hot pink flyer. Clary tilted her head and squinted making out the words: _party, Chairman Meow_, and _hosted by Magnus Bane_.

"So in other words you think going to a party will help distract me from my most recent _I had a brother I never knew about _drama?"

She grinned like a kid. "Exactly. Plus Jace seems to think that Mr. High Warlock might be able to help you recover some of your memories. He's been looking into it." Isabelle's smile turned wicked. "Plus there will be cute boys. Have you ever seen a Fey boy with skin that sparkles like snow?" Isabelle lifted her eyebrows suggestively.

After two months of wondering about this new world, Clary deciding it was about time to start living in it. "No," she smiled, unable to help herself. Isabelle's attitude was contagious. "But I could certainly use the distraction."

"Excellent," she clapped. "Follow me, we need to freshen you up."

….b.r.e.a.k….

It was an oddly cold night for this time of year in New York. Steam rose from the grates that lined the sidewalks, as Clary and Isabelle carefully maneuvered their way around them.

"See?" Isabelle said as they crossed the street. "I told you those boots wouldn't hurt your feet. I'm glad I kept them, they haven't fit me in years."

"I feel funny." Clary picked at the tight fabric. "I've never worn a dress like this before. Are you sure this is even a dress?" Clary glanced over her shoulder. "And where's the back?"

"It's a shirt, but who cares? It looks great on you."

Clary tugged the back of her dress down. "So where are we meeting Jace and Alec?"

"At Magnus' place. They went ahead of us to scope it out. You never know with Warlock's."

…..

They arrived at an alley entrance, one lone street lamp casting light along the side of the building. Clary noticed a group of motorcycles parked near by. For some reason they seemed different than any motorcycle she'd ever seen, but she didn't know why.

Isabelle glanced at the flier and shrugged. "I guess this is it." She knocked on the metal door.

A beautiful boy with slanted eyes and blue spiked hair answered. He was drinking a glowing orange liquid. The base from the music leaped out from the door, assaulting the deserted street. "Bonjour, mon amours." His glitter-covered eyes gave them each a once over. "Looking lovely I see. You will have the boys drooling I assure you." He winked at Clary and she blushed. "Are you here to celebrate the many years of Chairman Meow?"

"Sure," Isabelle said, obviously confused.

"Wonderful!"

Isabelle stepped forward but the man shot his arm out across the threshold, not allowing her to continue inside. His previously friendly face became serious. "Just so we're clear, Shadowhunter, there will be no weapons drawn beyond this point. If you do I won't hesitate to turn you into a house plant."

Afraid that Isabelle would feel threatened and do something stupid, Clary spoke up. "You don't have to worry about us," she smiled innocently. "We're here for the boys."

The boy's smiled returned, seemingly amused by her confession. "Well then, we have at least one thing in common don't we?" He waved them forward.

…..

Magnus' apartment was much larger than Clary would have thought. Compared to where her and her mother had lived, this was a mansion. It had several floors and extended out in multiple directions. But it's not the size of the apartment that demanded Clary's attention.

Isabelle nudged Clary. "Crazy, right?"

"Crazy doesn't even begin to explain…" he words trailed off as she took in the scene in front of her. It was straight from the pages of a _Midsummer Nights Dream_.

There was a dance floor in the center of the room where a mass of colorful bodies twisted and swayed with the music. Orbs of light floated freely throughout the room, shifting between the colors of the rainbow. In the corner, a girl with hot pink hair and pale blue skin kissed a boy with sharp talons for nails. Clary's mind struggled to make sense of it all.

"Take a look at that." Isabelle pointed to something near by. Clary pried her eyes away from the mesmerizing scene. Resting a top a mound of plush pillows was a cat. It looked out at the crowd as if it knew exactly what it was seeing. Like a king overseeing his subjects. They giggled at the sight.

"Stay right here," Isabelle pointed to the ground. "Don't go anywhere, I'm gonna grab us a drink." Clary nodded and watched as Isabelle disappeared into the crowd.

Clary turned back toward the party and continued to gaze out at the mass of gyrating bodies. That's when she noticed a boy, standing still in the middle of the dance floor. People bounced and danced all around him but he remained still. He looked a few years older than Clary, and seemed almost…normal. He beckoned for Clary to join him.

Without meaning to Clary pushed away from the wall and walked toward him. In Clary's mind the music turned seductive, but when she glanced around everyone else seemed to be dancing to a different tune. But she didn't care because all she wanted to do was dance with the mysterious boy.

He lifted his hand to her and she could feel herself falling.

Something warm grabbed her hand and pulled her back. Jace. "Come here," he said harshly, pulling her away from the dance floor. He pulled her into a hallway and turned to face her. "What do you think you're doing? Are you looking for trouble?" His anger only made her angry.

"What are you talking about? What did I do?"

Jace grabbed her arms and searched them for something. "Dammit Isabelle," he muttered under his breath. Jace removed a thin white stick from his jacket pocket. "My stele," he said. "The burn will fade quickly." He turned her palm over and applied a rune on the back of her hand. He then grabbed her shoulders and turned her toward the dance floor.

Clary gasped, seeing the boy for what he really was. His skinny, pale limbs bent in unnatural directions, while his dark, pupil less eyes watched her. He resembled nothing of the normal boy she'd just seen.

"Do you see now?" Clary nodded, still staring at the…thing. "If you dance with him you'll dance forever. That rune will help you discern truth from lies." She was suddenly reminded of how naive she really was.

She turned around to face Jace. "Thank you."

The word hung in the air between them.

In the dim lighting Jace's eyes glowed like a cat. And they were focused entirely on her. They scanned Clary's face: lips, nose, eyes, hair, as if memorizing her. She caught a sense of wonder in his expression and her heartbeat quickened in response. A lock of hair fell into his eyes, forcing Clary to fist her hands in order to keep from reaching for it. All she had to do was rise up onto her tip toes and…

A million questions died in her throat when he suddenly turned away from her. He leaned back, resting his head against the wall, as if struggling with some internal turmoil.

Clary looked at her hand, unsure of what to say to him. She traced the mark with her finger. "You know, this is the first rune I've ever received?" She didn't look up at him but she could sense him watching her. "My mother wouldn't allow me to have them until I absolutely needed them." She laughed without humor. "I guess a demon attack wasn't absolute enough for her." Right now Clary wasn't too fond of her mother and this wasn't helping. She leaned up against the same wall that Jace was on.

"She was only trying to protect you," he said gently. Clary still couldn't meet his eyes. "She wanted to keep you safe, and she did so in the best way that she could."

"Pfff…" Clary rolled her eyes at the thought. "She has a funny way of showing it."

They were both quiet, each of them silently battling whatever demons were haunting them.

"By the way?" Clary looked up at Jace. He cut her a sideways look, his glowing eyes stroking her like the paws of a cat. "That dress should be illegal."

Clary smiled, lowering her head in embarrassment. She'd never been one to flirt, but if anyone could bring it out of her it was Jace. She looked up at him through her lashes. "It's actually a shirt."

**AN: **All done! I hope that you enjoyed this chapter; I had SO much fun writing it.

A special thank you to my reviewers! Megan Ly, Taylor Jade, runemagic, The Noxpert

I love reading your reviews, so please…type away .


End file.
